The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1887-08-12

What was this story the little seamstress
she found starving in the attic had told her?
The janitress to the tenement house had
been servent in the PIeasanton family,
! and ca me to Fannie who was a rich and
generous, whenever any distress came to
her notice. And Fannie had gone to her
last call, to ind Barbara Golding tossing in
dellrious fever, evidently oyerworked, poor
ly fed, and sitting in little attic chamber.
She had paid for better room on the lower
floor, bad sent doctor, had Supplied medi-
cine. food and care, and visited her often,
till the doctor pronounced her on the road to
recovery.
And IL return she heard that Cyrus, her
own betrothed husband, was the lover of
Barbara Golding. docs he love her yet?"
the girl thought, pushlng back the hair from
/ her pale face, and looking in the mirror
Il am far handsomer. She is pretty only,
sweet ard fair / am handsome and accom-
pllshed. She is paGpe-. l am wealthy.
| Cyrus is not poor now since his aunt died;
but will rise In eminence with my wealth 10
aid him. while she will be a burden upon
him. Only week. Long before Barbara
can ever sit up we shall be on our way to
did he seek me if he loved her? 1t was only
a request of his aunt's, not com mand that
he should marry me if consented. But he
came to me. and 1 love him--I love himl
Can Barbara give him better love than
mine? can give her money to return to
her old home if she wishes. But IL he loves
heri o. Cyrus. do you love her and not me?
l cannot Doubt l must known
AS if in answer to the thought, a servant
raped at the door, and opening it, Fannie
was handed Cyrus Lenox's card.
II will come down at once" she said tax
ing off her hat and smoothing her disordered
hair. Sne was not sorry that he had called
while the first excitement of her discovery
nerved her with fictitious strength to en-
dure any word she might speak. She came
to him quietly, dignifed as ever. but very
pale, so pale he asked anxiousIy is she was
well.
well. but tired" she answered. l have
been out this morning"
They talked of Indifferent matters for q
short time; then Fannie said. earnestly:
Cyrus have craving desire to ask you
one true woman's question. VIII you
promise me sincere answer"
He hesitated moment, then said:
! II will answer truthfully whatever you
ask"
"Did you ever love any other woman be-
fore you knew me?"
''Do you not think 1T enough to know l
| love you nOw?" he said
You promised me a sincere answer, and
you give me an evasion" she said, reproach-
fully,
/ "Because von asr mo IN taar opa, ON ola
wound your love is healing
Yet, even if 1t pains both you and me, l
beg you to tell me OF you fret love-"
| Fannie's lips were parched and and stiff,
( but she she spoke calmly.
''Since you insist" Cyrus said grayely. 81
will tell you. Two years ago, IN the farm
house where 1 was boarding. 1 met woman,
or rather girl sweet fair maiden. IIoyed
1 was poor man then, Fannie, and she had
happy. pleasant home. So 1 bade her
farewell. hoping to return to her next year
and bring her to the city. when 1 did re-
turn the farm was sold. and Barbara had
gone away. None OF the neighbors could
! tell me anything OF her,"
at was your place to seek her"
81 did, faithfully. But L could find no
{ ace OF her whereabouts. In the autumn nv
aunt died She had loved you for years and
her last wish was the hope that you would
one day be my wife. 1t was sweet soIace
to me even in my sorrow for her loss, and
Pain at BarbaIa's disappearance, to have
your sympathy, and soon found there was
yet room in my heart for true, tender love.
You cannot believe L would have asked you
to be my wife had l not loved you2"
But if even now, you found Barbara?'
II have long ago ceased to love her,
Yet If she came to you?"
"You are my betrothed wife"
Yet if Barbara came to you poor, friend
less, and sick; if she told you she had come
to the city. seeking work. hoping to find you,
and bad sunk under her burden of loneliness
and toll, if she told you that, ragged, foot
sore and weary. she had looked in at you in
your cosey Office and turned away. unwilling
to throw the burden of her poverty upon
you; il she had struggled until she had faint
ed and fell sick, and was gaining health
slowly, hopelessly; with no futnre before
her but future of poverty and toll; IL Bar
oara came so to you. Cyrus, what would you
say?"
But only pallid face, with great beads |
OF perspiratlon upon the broad brow was |
lifted In speechless agony to meet her eyes. |
Only large brown eyes, wistful and suffering, |
appealing 20 her womanly heart
There was a dead silence in the room for
long time. Then hor Sc voice said
"You have seen Barbara? ?''
Yes, i have seen her,
"As you describe her?''
"Yes."
"And you despise me as faithless to her
and You 2'
''No, l do not despise you. am sorry
that you did not know your own heart bet
ter when you came to ask me to be your
wife,
All her pain and love were well hidden in
the cold. proud voice which Fannie Pleas.
anton assumed to cover her breaking heart.
But after moment she said, more gently:
Barbara has been very i'll. and is still 100
weak TO bear any great agitation. Y"u
must be patient. and leave her to me. When
she is well enough you shall see her."
Fannie, you will break our engagement?
You will dare the gossip that will be tie
result OF any change nuw2 You will not
trust me to tear out this old love, and be !
ever true and faithful to you? am not so
weak but 1 can do SO, il you will trust me-
But l will notl'' was the quiet reply
81 will marry no man whose heart is not all /
mine. will have no memory of another |
love for my constant r.val. We can still be |
friends, but never again lovers
He had no words 10 meet the steady reso- /
luton OF her voice, but yet he took no